Harley Davis - And How We Parted Friends

byzbeccah

2K followers

Updated 11 years ago

My relationship with Harley is not something that I am proud of nor is it a relationship that I ever want to repeat. It all began when my grandson decided that I needed a dog or perhaps a cat. Secretly I knew that the little boy wanted to have a pet for himself while at my house. Anything to please the boy, so I thought why not? I love both cats and dogs!

Now I had to decide which way to go - would I choose a dog or a cat?

Because my son had conveniently left his Blue Tick Hound with me to raise after his living circumstances changed, I was still a bit put-out with sweeping and vacuuming dog hair off my floors and furniture, plus the demands this little darling had placed on my life had become onerous at best.

I had luckily found a lovely home for a him with a Photo Journalist and her husband. Blue was now in a much classier situation than my household in that he now had two homes, one in an exclusive neighborhood in the city and one on a near-by island where he could romp and play on the weekends. He also had a family of dogs and cats that had their own "den" with each having his or her very own indoor dog house and comfy chair!

I was just not ready for another dog at this time!

A couple years before, a neighborhood cat had decided that my back yard was pretty much her home. Her coat was clean and it was obvious she was well-fed, so I knew that she likely belonged to someone close-by in the community. Trying to avoid forming a relationship, I did my best to ignore her, and did not offer much more than a pat on the head when she tried to communicate with me. Kitty came and went over the next few months.

Then while working in the yard most all of one day, Kitty showed up and stayed close all day long. Later as I sat outside enjoying the coolness of the late afternoon, she came up and dropped an almost-dead bird at my feet. Kitty looked up at me as if to say, "Do you like it?". So at that point, I knew I was a newly adopted Momma and placed her in my lap. It was a sealed deal!

Knowing that if Kitty was going to be staying in my house, she had to be checked out at the Vet. So next day we see the Vet down the street and find out she is parasite free, and in good health. She got her nails clipped, and whether she needed them or not, she got all the necessary shots. If she decided to go back to her old home, that was fine, but while with me we had to take some precautions.

Kitty stayed with me for about two years, sleeping at the end of my bed every night. She did all her scratching outside in the garage and the framework of one screen door still displays her work. She was a great cat, never caused any problems, and she had good morals - she was not a street cat prone to prowling the streets at night.

She left one day and did not come back. Did not know for sure if she was alright but kept thinking she would come back. Maybe she went back to her original home or maybe she felt compelled to adopt another Momma. Then one day, perhaps after two or three years, she reappeared in the front yard. I saw her looking around and felt sure it was her, so went out and she came to me. She had on a nice collar and still looked great. We spent a little time together, then she moved on and has never reappeared again.

Remembering how easy a cat could be with maintenance and being able to leave them alone overnight with water, food, and the litter box handy, I decided a cat would be perfect.

So the boy and I began our search for a rescue kitty. Several weeks later we found three little black kitties at a Vet's office, so the boy chose the one little male, I signed adoption papers, and paid the fee. We ran to Walmart and purchased necessary supplies including of course, the litter and litter box. All was well, kitty seemed happy and the boy was happy. We named him Harley Davis and called him Harley. The name seemed to suit him, and I would soon find that it did - indeed, suit him exceedingly well.

Next came the neutering. And, because this was going to be an indoor cat, I (mistakenly) chose to have his claws removed as I had in the past experienced the damage a cat could do to furniture, and door frames.

Recovery went well. Soon Harley was going outside and loving the outdoors. Although I had an 8 foot wooden fence, I stayed outside with him because I was afraid that another cat would come over the fence and cause a problem. Harley never wanted to come inside, so sometimes I would have to scold him. Soon his cantankerous personality began to display. I discovered that he was one hard-headed cat and was obviously quite indignant over being scolded. He did not like the scoldings at all.

He bit me one day when I picked him up and brought him inside. By this time I realized that having this fella de-clawed had not been such a good idea but of course I could not reverse that decision. I could not let him run free, and he was beginning to hate me. I could actually feel the hostility when he haughtily walked close to me.

The straw that broke the camel's back came the day that I had to once again pick him up and bring him inside. I placed him on the floor and turned to lock the door and Harley immediately grabbed my left leg below the knee with both his front legs, and held on tightly. He bit me - not a scratch, but a gash! Blood was everywhere, and I had to shake and pull him loose! The cat was very angry and it was clear that he had no remorse.

So it became obvious that Harley hated me and that our mutual living arrangement would have to be dissolved. He would have to go. But I would not take him to the pound; I took Harley back to the Vet from whom I had rescued him. I paid another fee that would cover his living expenses for probably the next six months. They took the biting history I gave them and were especially curious as to whether Harley bit only me, or if he also bit other people. I never knew him to bite another person, so I walked away feeling like a marked woman. Harley must have had a very good reason for hating me - he was the only animal I have ever owned who did not love me.

I hope that Harley eventually found a good Momma, especially one that he did not feel compelled to bite!